


you can't put your arms around a memory

by dreadlockholiday



Category: Captain America (Movies), Captain America - All Media Types, Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Angst, Captain America Steve Rogers/Modern Bucky Barnes, M/M, Pining, Shrunkyclunks, Steve Rogers Feels
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-01
Updated: 2020-11-01
Packaged: 2021-03-08 23:21:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,148
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27324943
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dreadlockholiday/pseuds/dreadlockholiday
Summary: "Alright, Bucky," Steve slows his steps, watches his neighbour stop at the bottom of the next flight of stairs. There's a canvas bag in his hand that Steve didn't notice earlier, cream coloured with the figure of a sleeping, black cat painted on it. "Have a good day."He thinks Bucky's cheeks pink up a bit right then and there, but Steve can't tell. He's too distracted by his pounding, foolish heart, by the way Bucky smiles bashfully, and ducks his head. The way he seems like he wants to stay.
Relationships: James "Bucky" Barnes & Steve Rogers, James "Bucky" Barnes/Steve Rogers
Comments: 21
Kudos: 98





	you can't put your arms around a memory

**Author's Note:**

> This was originally meant to be different, but it played out like this in the end. Please someone give Steeb a hug.
> 
> Thanks to the lovely [darter_blue](https://archiveofourown.org/users/darter_blue) for betaing <3  
> Title is from the homonymous song by Johnny Thunders.

There aren't many lucky days in Steve's life. The story is always the same, a monotonous, grinding pattern between busy, draining hours on the battlefield, and lonesome moments in his too quiet, too lifeless apartment. 

It hurts. There's not much left to smile at, not much left inside him that  _ knows _ how to smile. The once warm space behind his ribs is now cold and dry – a wrinkled chamber where all traces of a heart have been scraped out – and Steve wonders why he still bothers to stay alive more often than he admits. 

_ You can't die _ _,_ a voice echoes in his head,  _ you've been cursed beyond your time; you live .  _

There aren't many lucky days in Steve's life, but today is one of them. 

A rarity – lonely, candid flower on a mountaintop; glowing gemstone encased in rough, dead dirt – and Steve cradles it so close and so tight with all the fear of losing one blissful little moment.

James is beautiful. He always is, whether Steve sees him in sweaty, jogging clothes or in a pristine, carefully picked out outfit. He's beautiful like  _ this _ _–_ washed out jeans and navy coat draped over slender shoulders clad in a mustard sweater. The light shines in his eyes, it illuminates everything that surrounds him, putting the Sun to shame. It shines over all the shadows, warms all the bones in Steve's body. 

The wind makes his dark, curly locks dance as he leisurely walks down the street. They're going opposite directions, he and Steve; towards each other and approaching the apartment building that meets them in the middle, and something in Steve's chest wiggles when James gets close enough to notice him. 

They greet each other – just a subtle nudge of chin, a pair of kind smiles – until they've both reached their destination. Steve jogs a couple of steps, gets there first, and takes care of the front door to the complex, opening it wide for his neighbour to step in. 

"Thank you, Mr. Rogers." James chirps with that twinkle in his eyes, and Steve can't help but smile wider as he holds the door open for him. 

"It's nothing," He says, following James as they climb up the stairs, wiping his hands on his thighs, "And just Steve is fine." 

James turns to look over his shoulder; grey eyes crinkle at the corners with shy admiration. Steve is hit with the smell of musk and coffee, with a sudden, scorching need to touch him, to feel his warmth and body, to make sure he's not just a dream. He refrains. 

"You can call me Bucky then." James' words fall like a slow, sugary trickle off his lips, sending thrills running up Steve's spine. 

_ Bucky _ _…_ It's cute. It's endearing. Special. It makes  _ Steve _ feel special, knowing that Bucky gave him permission to call him by his nickname; it's like being invited into a cozy home, trusted with the intimacy it contains, and Steve is overwhelmed. The bubbling pot of feelings in his stomach ties a knot in his throat, and he can't say anything in response, can't speak all the way until they reach the first floor. 

The first floor, which tragically happens to be the one where Steve lives. 

"Alright, Bucky," Steve slows his steps, watches his neighbour stop at the bottom of the next flight of stairs. There's a canvas bag in his hand that Steve didn't notice earlier, cream coloured with the figure of a sleeping, black cat painted on it. "Have a good day." 

He thinks Bucky's cheeks pink up a bit right then and there, but Steve can't tell. He's too distracted by his pounding, foolish heart, by the way Bucky smiles bashfully, and ducks his head. The way he seems like he wants to stay. 

"You too, Steve." Bucky says, long eyelashes casting shadows on sharp cheekbones. He slowly turns around and begins to walk up the stairs, and then throws one last glance over his shoulder, "See you around." 

Steve's lips curl up – towards the sky, towards Heaven – and he watches. 

He watches until Bucky's gone from his sight, until he can only hear the sound of his fading footsteps bouncing off the cold hallway walls. Steve listens with broody eyes trained to the floor – the jingle of keys, a door opening, a soft voice greeting a mysterious creature living inside, happy meows chirping in response. Steve listens even after he can't hear anything anymore. 

Bucky is  _ so _ beautiful, and Steve wishes he could have cherished his beauty for a little bit longer, before he was gone from his sight again. 

A sigh escapes his lungs, happy and satisfied, and Steve reluctantly moves his feet from where they're still anchored to the ground – to a faded moment, to a memory – and reaches his door with his lips thinned out in a secret smile. 

Bucky's sweet scent still lingers in his nose; the memory of his short, curly hair is hypnotising – waves and waves of soft, tender locks, begging for Steve to bury his face in them. He fishes the keys out of his pocket, shoes coming off as soon as he steps inside. Finally home. Finally warm, inside and out. 

The smile is quick to drop from Steve's face when his eyes stop on the shield propped against the living room wall. 

It's like getting punched back into reality. Like falling in a dream and suddenly waking up with a start. It's like diving into icy water all over again. 

Steve's brows furrow, pinched with bitterness, and all the magic and bliss of the moment rush out of him with a heavy exhale. 

He can daydream all he wants, but in the end that's all there will be to it. Steve can't have Bucky. He can't  _ give _ himself to Bucky; not the way he wants, not without the shield, and the uniform, and the corrupted star on his chest. 

Bucky deserves better. He deserves someone who's not afraid to love him, someone who doesn't hide their life from him. Someone who Steve is not. 

Suddenly, his feet are heavy as they drag him across the living room. He's back from his late afternoon walk; not tired, nor worn out, but each step he takes feels like lead – chains hanging from his ankles, weight pulling him down and back and down again. 

In the lonely silence of his apartment, his thoughts find their voice again. Steve lets them; there's no point in fighting them, and he takes every stab they inflict to already open wounds with resignation. 

It hurts, but today was his lucky day, and the memory of Bucky's smile is a reassuring one – it's warm, it's safe, it's a soft, unexpected embrace – and Steve sinks into his armchair with a pleasant tingle in his fingertips. 

Steve will feed off it – grateful and humble – and it will keep him going. Until next time. 

**Author's Note:**

> I'm on [tumblr](http://dreadlockholiday.tumblr.com/) if you wanna pass by or see my other fics and fanarts! Let me know what you think <3


End file.
